


Kid Today

by ljunattainable



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Post canon, Swearing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljunattainable/pseuds/ljunattainable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy arrives from the future asking for team free will to help find his captured father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this came from - me and kids don't mix that well. I can only promise random updates - sorry.

Sam’s not the one who’s good with kids - that’s more Dean’s department - so when the scruffy, black-haired, skinny kid comes knocking at the door of the bunker, barging in as if he owns the place and proceeds to talk ten to the dozen and not make any sense what-so-ever, Sam has to say he’s at a loss. It’s even possible his mouth might be gaping open embarrassingly.

“Um… “ he starts, but he doesn’t get any further because the excitable little creature throws himself down into the couch with scary familiarity and talks on and on.

“Why aren’t you doing anything? Aren’t you even listening to me? My dad’s in trouble. He was captured and dad’s going spare - he’s almost useless. That’s why I’m here. Can you come? Will you help? Because I miss my dad, and I’m worried and I know you can help but we just don’t have all the friends we used to have because it’s ages since dad was hunting, and when dad fell he lost touch with everyone and now we don’t have lots of people to look for him and - .“ the kid stops and tilts his head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Who are you?” Sam gasps out in a rush in case he gets interrupted, “And what the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m David,” the kid says as if that’s all the information Sam needs and then he carries on as if Sam hadn’t spoken. “My dad’s missing - he’s been captured and I’m really worried and dad’s upset and he can’t find dad and my uncle is way over the other side of America these days - he’s getting married to this really nice lady who buys me candy even though my dad doesn’t approve - but it won’t be the same if dad isn’t there and I’m going to be an usher but if my dad doesn’t come back then I’ll miss him and what if he dies - “ and finally the kid stutters to a halt, blue eyes wide and bright with unshed tears and clearly scared out of his wits. 

Sam’s thinking he should hug him or pat a shoulder or something but then the kid makes a lunge for him and buries his face into Sam’s belly, bawling his eyes out. Sam pats the kid’s back awkwardly, which, thank God, is when Dean and Cas come home.

The kid turns around and stares. The bawling stops. The kid’s face is red from crying and he’s breathing heavily as if he’s going to hyperventilate. 

“Sam? Who’s this?” Dean asks, lifting one eyebrow as if it’s Sam’s fault that the kid (David, Sam reminds himself) is here in the first place.

Sam doesn’t get a word in.

“I’m David,” the kid says as if he’s in awe. His eyes flicker constantly from Dean to Cas and back again. “My dad’s been captured and he might die and my dad’s worried… “ and so on and so on. Dean looks over David’s head and mouths “what the hell?” Sam shrugs. As if he’d know.

Cas finally manages to get David to stop talking though Sam’s not sure what he does to achieve it. He holds out his hand, palm up, and David just stops talking, walks forward and slips his hand into Cas’s. Cas leads David back to the couch and sits down next to him. Dean stares at them, then at Sam. “What the hell?” Dean hisses.

“I don’t know,” Sam admits, sounding desperate. “He just turned up.”

Dean walks to the front of the couch. “Uh, David,” he starts and the boy stares at him gravely, waiting. “Let’s start at the beginning. Where did you come from?”

“Here,” David replies, “but not now here.”

“Wh… ?”

Cas turns sideways to face David and Sam can almost see the light bulb over Cas’s head. “When did you come from, David?” he asks.

“2030,” David says, sounding proud. “Dad taught me.”

“Your father taught you to time travel?” Cas clarifies.

“You’re not buying this cra… “

“Dean,” Cas admonishes. “Language.”

David giggles at that, moving across to sit much closer to Cas.

“David?” Cas prompts.

“Well, he did teach me, but I’m not supposed to do it, but he’s missing and he’s in danger and I miss him and I’m worried and dad’s worried and …“ Cas holds up a hand and David stops, mouth still open in readiness for the next sentence to come tumbling out.

“You talk a lot,” Cas says. He looks up at Dean. “Do all human children talk this much?”

“Not in my experience. I feel sorry for his parents,” Dean mutters.

David scowls in a minor sulk at Dean’s statement. Sam watches Dean crouch down in front of David and proceed to undo the damage. “How old are you?”

“Eleven. I’m old enough to help. Dad doesn’t think so, dad thinks I’m… “ Dean holds his hand up. 

“Whoa, slow down, it’s okay. You’re plenty old enough to help, we can see that. Why are you here and how did you know about us?” When David opens his mouth to reply, Dean adds, “in ten words or less.”

David looks as if he’s going to cry again, but is trying to hold the tears back. “I love my dad and I think they’re going to kill him. Saving people - it’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Sam doesn’t know how this kid knows what he knows, but he sure knows how to push Dean’s buttons.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “it’s been a while, but yeah, it is what we do.”


	2. Chapter 2

It turns out David would like them to get saving people a little faster than they are. “We need to go. My dad’s in trouble, and he might die and my other dad’s going to be so angry, and it doesn’t take that long, and what the hell do you need to pack for anyway, we have all that stuff - knives and… “ … and so on.

He alternates between earnest complaints about how long they’re taking to get ready (for the record, it’s only been forty-five minutes since Dean and Cas got home), and walking around the common living areas of the bunker staring at everything curiously, offering continuous live commentary on all manner of things from the surprising color of their couch (brown, what’s so surprising about brown?) to the layer of dust on the bookshelves. Occasionally he picks something up before placing it down somewhere completely different, but somehow more sensible.

The kid may be an amazing interior designer in the making, but the constant presence of David’s voice is starting to grate on Sam’s nerves. Sam wipes his hand over his face as he listens to David’s latest sermon on how they’re wasting time and they need to go right now.

“David, we’re going as fast as we can,” Sam says as patiently as he can manage, which isn’t very but Sam’s quite proud that he does as well as he does, “we’ll go a lot quicker if you give us five minutes peace.”

David’s face falls. “Sorry.”

“The boy’s just worried about his father, Sam,” Cas tsks, holding out a hand towards David to gesture for him to come closer. David crosses the room and grasps the elbow of Cas’s shirt sleeve in a small fist. Twin blue-eyed scowls under matching shocks of dark hair scowl at him in disapproval. 

But that’s fine, Cas is more than welcome to the kid if he can keep him quiet - this isn’t a popularity contest and Sam doesn’t care one iota if David doesn’t like him as much as he likes Cas. Well, maybe an iota. Sam can’t tell what it is about Cas exactly that David finds so irresistible. It’s not as if Cas exudes child-friendly vibes. In fact, Cas is sporting a fairly persistent mildly surprised expression as David unquestionably does his bidding every time. Now David slides his hand down Cas’s arm and forces Cas’s fingers to uncurl so that he can slip his hand into Cas’s, and Cas stares down at their joined hands for a moment as if wondering how they got that way. He gives a half-hearted attempt to dislodge David’s hand from his so that he can finish packing, but it’s a token gesture at best and David’s hand stays firmly where it is. Cas carries on one-handed, David close by his side, now giving a running commentary on whatever it is that’s going into Cas’s bag.

Sam shakes his head in bemusement and turns to finish shoving the last of his knives into his duffel with his spare underwear and tee-shirts. 

Across the room, Dean closes his own bag and stretches. “I’m set. Everyone ready?“

Cas nods. Sam does the zipper up on his bag and stands up nodding too. 

“Finally,” David breathes.

“Hey, less cheek,” Dean mutters. “So how do we do this?”

David lets go of Cas’s hand and a huge hunting knife materializes out of Sam doesn’t-know-where. David’s pulling up his shirtsleeve to show a very recent red wound on the inside of his forearm. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so kid,” Dean says sharply at the same time as Cas reaches down and snatches the knife out of David’s hand.

“Hey,” David yells, reaching up to try and take the knife back but getting absolutely nowhere when Cas holds the knife higher than David can reach. 

“How about you tell us what to do, and we do the bleeding,” Dean says.

“I’m old enough,” David pouts, “I got here, didn’t I?”

“Yep, you did good, now… oh… ” Dean’s eyes widen, “kinda irrelevant.” Cas is already painting bloody sigils on the table top, a trail of blood gliding down his forearm to his wrist. “You know what you’re doing there, man?”

Cas looks up. “I’ve never done it as a human before obviously, but the physics of time travel should be the same, angel or human. And David did it,” he points out, “and David’s human.” Cas pauses. “You are human aren’t you?” he adds as an afterthought. Probably something they should have checked.

“One-hundred percent,” David says as if it’s a perfectly normal question, which is just one more tick in the knows-more-than-he-should checklist. His young face is watching seriously and intent as Castiel paints pattern after pattern on the wood.

“Date?” Cas asks David.

“May 18th,” David replies. “Can we go back to the exact time I left only I’m going to get in so much trouble for disappearing and especially right now when dad’s already missing?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Cas says, his eyes closed tight as he concentrates on the spell. “Didn’t your father tell you that time passes at the same rate in both time-lines?” Cas mutters a few foreign words under his breath and Sam could swear the room gets a few degrees warmer.

“Yeah, he did,” David says, dejected. “I just thought you might know something dad hadn’t told me, that’s all.”

“Guess you’ve just got to face the music, kiddo,” Dean says, distracted and more interested in what Cas is doing than in David’s father-related problem. “We’ve all been there.”

“What would you do if your kid disappeared for a couple of hours when your partner’s been kidnapped?” David asks Dean suddenly, turning to face him.

Dean blinks. “Um… well, I don’t have a partner, and I don’t have a kid so… “

“Dean yells when he’s worried about his family,” Sam says to help Dean out, at the exact same time Cas says, “Dean shows his concern for us through anger.” Dean glares at them and it makes Sam chuckle when he doesn’t actually deny the accusation. 

“Yeah,” David shrugs, “my dad too.”

“It’s time,” Cas interrupts and he beckons them all closer. “We need to hold hands.” He reaches a hand to Sam, who is pushed out of the way by David, who then grabs Dean’s hand on his other side. Resigned, Sam takes Dean’s spare hand. He reaches for Cas to complete the circle but Cas shakes his head and Sam lets his hand drop back to his side. Cas chants a few words, then slaps a bloody palm down into the center of the sigils arranged on the table.

There’s a brief rush of wind, a high-pitched whistle and Sam has the weird sensation that he’s being pulled forward from the center of his gut. Then it’s over as quickly as it began and they’re still standing in the bunker, holding hands. Sam looks around - it’s the same, but it’s different. More lived in, more homely he supposes would describe it.

“Dad?” David calls loudly, breaking out of their human chain and running towards the area that in their time they use as a reading room.

“David,” an answering yell comes back, gruff, worried and angry all at once. David disappears around a half-wall that divides the two areas, and Sam, Dean and Cas hang back. It’s probably best if David does the explanations - it might prevent some accidental stabbing.

The muffled voices of David and his dad filter in from the next room. 

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

“I went to get help to find father.”

“You can’t just run off,” David’s dad says, before his voice breaks a little and drops an octave. He says the next sentence so quietly that Sam only just catches it. “What would I do if I lost you too, kiddo?”

“I’m sorry, but I really did bring help. We’ll find dad. I promise.” David’s voice gets higher and distressed. “Dad, don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

This is all kinds of uncomfortable and Sam shifts his eyes to Dean, then Cas and back to Dean. “I’m not sure David’s dad’s going to be that happy to see us.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Dean whispers back. “Maybe we should step outside for - “

“Cas?” Sam snaps his head back around to look in the direction the shocked exclamation came from. There’s a man standing in the door frame - there’s Dean standing in the door frame - fifteen years older, a little heavier, a little grey around the temples, red-eyed and clearly exhausted. “Cas,” he says again, quietly. He takes a step towards them, David holding the cuff of his sleeve. “I brought help, Dad,” David says, his face screwed up in anxiety as he looks up towards his father’s face, seeking validation.

“It’s cool we’re here, right?” Sam’s Dean asks. Dean’s hesitant but he’s not as thrown by it as Sam thought he’d be, running into his future self, being David’s father - being one of David’s two fathers. Sam’s quite proud of him, actually.

Dean senior takes a deep breath, but his eyes don’t leave Cas. “Yeah. It’s fine… it’s just… seeing… it just caught me by surprise for a moment, that’s all.” He puts a hand on David’s shoulder and squeezes. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yes, he is,” Cas says. Dean senior’s face contorts in sorrow and finally, he looks away. “Thanks.”

Dean clears his throat awkwardly. “So, do we know… do I know… um… do we know David’s other dad? The guy who got captured.”

Okay, so now Sam’s less proud of his brother, or maybe Dean’s just got a huge blind spot. “It’s Cas,” Sam blurts out before he can stop himself. “Look at David - the kid’s obviously Cas’s.”

“What?” Dean asks. “Cas, as in that Cas?” he points to Castiel, who keeps a perfectly blank face having presumably come to the right conclusion about the same time Sam did, possibly earlier.

“How many Cas'es do you know, Dean?” Sam asks. There are times he truly despairs of Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam probably shouldn’t be listening to the conversation going on in the room next door but he can’t really help it. That’s his excuse anyway. The door’s stuck slightly ajar, and although Dean and Cas are talking in quiet voices, the sound is carrying easily and much too clearly in the middle-of-the-night quiet of the bunker to be completely avoided. Sam’s glad that Dean senior’s off doing something in one of the archive rooms and that David seems to be too busy concentrating on eating a ham sandwich to be paying much attention. Well, the kid’s mostly eating the sandwich in between picking out the bits of fat and gristle around the edges of the ham. There’s a little greasy pile forming on the corner of the table.

“Get a plate.”

“You get a plate.”

“It’s not my sandwich. If you’re old enough to time travel, surely you’re old enough to get your own plate.”

David glares at Sam, and adds another string of fat to the pile, silently daring Sam to object. Sam decides to take the easy path and ignore him. 

Dean’s voice rumbles quietly from next door and Sam further ignores David in favor of eavesdropping. 

“I’ve already seen one future and that never happened so I know there are different versions of the future,” Dean says.

“Of course,” Cas replies, his tone even and neutral.

“So, you know, I’m cool that this future Dean got together with this future Cas. I mean that’s okay, right?”

“Yes,” Cas says with a slight upward lilt in his voice that makes it sound almost a question.

“It doesn’t mean it’s our future. You know, you and me, we’re best buddies so it’s unlikely it’s going to go that way for us.”

“Oh,” Cas says, sounding surprised. There’s a pause before he adds, “Possibly.”

“Possibly?” Dean hisses, “There’s no ‘possibly’ about it.” There’s a pause, then Dean adds, “You do know that means they’re doing it, right?”

“Doing what?” Cas asks, with suspicious innocence and Sam’s mouth twitches up involuntarily. Cas has gotten very good at teasing Dean. 

“The down and dirty - damn you, Cas, you know exactly what I mean.” 

There’s a light snort that Sam takes to mean Cas is amused. “Dean, I don’t know what will happen in the future. I’m as surprised as you that we’re a couple and that we have a child, however I don’t find the idea as abhorrent as you seem to.”

“I don’t find the idea abhorrent, I just find it frigging ridiculous.”

Sam can see, in his mind’s eye, Cas tilting his head in that curious way of his, he can even imagine the playful glint in Cas’s eye. “So if you don’t find it abhorrent then you do think I’m attractive?”

“Cas,” Dean warns.

“Then it must be that you don’t care about me?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it. Stop messing around.”

Cas chuckles softly. It’s a sound he’s started making more and more often, and it’s nice but Sam’s still not used to it.

“You’re a sod,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas says, not sounding especially sorry.” Cas takes a breath and when he next speaks he’s a lot more serious. “But you’re right - there are a lot of different futures. If it makes you uncomfortable just think of this future Dean and this future Cas as different people, because in truth, they are. David is not our son, he’s theirs. We didn’t get together - we won’t get together - as a couple, because the path that led this Dean and this Cas to that outcome obviously isn’t our path. They’re different people, it’s a different family.”

The squeaky sound of a chair’s legs being dragged across a wooden floor as either Cas or Dean stands up turns Sam hurriedly back to his book to avoid getting caught listening.

“Then we’re agreed,” Dean says, his voice getting closer. Sam flips over a page of the book he’s reading trying to look busy, then another page, then another in quick succession. David takes another bite of his sandwich and chews loudly - deliberately so, Sam decides.

“Apparently,” Cas says as he walks into the library.

Dean follows a mere foot’s step behind. “What do you mean ‘apparently’ - “. Dean falters when he spots Sam and looks at him suspiciously. 

Sam flips another page, trying with all his might to look as if he didn’t just hear the whole conversation, then pushes the book to one side. He points at the pile stacked at David’s elbow. “Give me the next one,” he says. David bristles.

“Hey, the kid’s not your slave,” Dean mutters, sliding himself into a chair.

“Exactly,” David says.

“And he’s not your kid so why do you care?” Sam feels obliged to ask, especially given the conversation he just heard that he’s pretending not to have heard.

“I know he’s not my kid,” Dean grumbles.

“Then stop acting like he is. David, pass me the next book, please,” Sam says.

Cas rests a hand on the back of a chair next to Dean, pulls it out and sits down. Their shoulders are almost touching, something that neither one of them seems to notice. Sam notices. It’s not as if it isn’t normal for them, and hasn’t been for years, but now Sam needs to take a swig of his beer to hide his surprised expression. Best buddies his ass, but if that’s what Dean wants to believe… 

David slides the top book across, blessedly silent for once, and Sam opens the jacket and peers at the contents list, then passes that one to Cas. “More your sort of thing.” He clicks his fingers and David pushes a second book his way. 

“You should go to bed,” Sam says. The kid looks exhausted. “Nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

David shakes his head, a stubborn expression on his face. 

Sam shrugs. Maybe soon Sam’ll get Cas to send the kid to bed. “Okay, then you might as well make yourself useful. You and Dean can check those books for mentions of Native American sites with anything that looks like they might be sigils or wards,” Sam says, “then Cas and I’ll check to see if it matches any of the ones on the ransom note your dad got.” 

The ransom note is the only real clue they’ve got as to who has Cas. It’s not for money, although it appears Dean and Cas are not short of a buck or two in this time, but it’s for one of the old supernatural artifacts in the bunker’s archives, which for obvious reasons they can’t give up. 

Well, Sam thinks the reasons are obvious but Dean senior is wavering, Sam can tell.

“I thought we were going to go out and find dad,” David complains, disappointed and pouting. “I’ve got a knife. I want to kill the bastards that took him. I want to rip their hearts out and burn them.”

“That’s my boy.” Dean pats David on the shoulder proudly.

Sam glares at him. “It’s important to find out as much as you can before you go in to uh… rip out their hearts,” Sam says. He feels obliged to defend research when he can, because no-one else will. David doesn’t look any more enthusiastic. Sam sighs in resignation, glad he doesn’t have kids, glad his future self has seemingly had the good sense not to have kids if they’re as hard as this to please. And in any case he has Dean. It’s almost as bad. He goes back to his books.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m not riding with him,” Dean hisses in Sam’s ear. 

Sam looks in the direction of the impala where older Dean, David and Cas are standing, waiting impatiently. Even taking Cas out of the equation (presumably), it’s a toss up as to which ‘him’ Dean means.

“Who?” Sam asks.

Dean looks at him as if he’s stupid. “Me, of course you idiot,” he says. “I mean Dean. Him.” he says pointedly.

Sam huffs in frustration. He gets that meeting your future self has got to be all sorts of confusing and he’s incredibly glad that the Sam of this time has been persuaded by Dean senior to stay in California (”It’s already too frigging confusing without another you here as well,” Dean senior had muttered loudly on the phone last night). So yes, Sam gets it, but Dean seems to be taking ‘all sorts of confusing’ to a new level of panic, and so even though Sam gets it he’s finding it difficult to sympathize.

“Why don’t you want to ride with him?” Sam asks. 

They’re going to take two cars in case they need to split up after the first site on their shortlist of three thrown out by last night’s research, so they have to divide up somehow and Sam was hoping to ride with Cas so he can hone some of his thinking. The information he’s gathered so far is discouraging and implies to Sam that the idea of a simple exchange - Cas for the artifact - is never going to happen. If he’s right, the cult that has Cas needs both Cas (a fallen angel) and the artifact (some kind of supernatural battery as far as Sam can tell) to compel the evil spirit Malsumis to appear. 

Sam knows it’s odd but he doesn’t feel like he can have a conversation about this future Cas’s probable death with anyone except his Cas. Only Cas is likely to be unemotional about it. 

The second car is some crappy old Ford pickup that’s rusting away from the inside out and for some reason Sam had assumed that Dean would be happy with the arrangement that had Dean in the Impala and Sam and Cas driving the rent-a-wreck. Obviously he was wrong. 

“It’s depressing. The guy’s frigging distraught.” 

Sam sighs. “Cas is missing, maybe hurt, Dean. You know how you’d feel if it was our Cas.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. “This is not about how I feel about our Cas,” Dean says, edging towards anger. “This is not our future. Of course I’d be worried but,” Dean waves a hand in the direction of the small group by the car, “I wouldn’t be that kind of worried.”

Sam wonders if this is an appropriate time to remind Dean how he nearly drank himself to death after Cas walked into the reservoir, or how Dean left the bunker un-warded against all angels just so that Cas could get back in if he needed to, or how broken up Dean was when he came back from purgatory without Cas. 

Probably not.

“Fine,” Sam says, giving up. “Whatever.” He throws the keys for Dean to catch. 

Dean calls across to the others. “Cas. C’mon, we’re ready.”

David slips his hand into Cas’s and Cas looks down at him. Oh, dear. Sam can see how this is going to go. 

“I’ll ride with David and Dean in the Impala,” Cas says, and Sam glances at Dean and flinches. Dean’s mouth tightens into a thin line of disapproval. 

“Fine,” Dean mutters under his breath as he climbs into the pickup, “You do that.”

When they get to the first site, after a long and quiet journey with Dean sitting morose beside him the entire way, Sam’s not at all surprised when the first thing Dean does is grab Cas’s elbow and drag him off on his own into the foothills to “look for the cave-art”. 

Dean senior watches them, his face difficult to read. When David starts to follow Cas, Dean senior distracts him by sending him to the pickup to fetch shovels that they almost certainly don’t need.

“He’s jealous,” the older Dean says to Sam, matter-of-factly, nodding in Dean and Cas’s direction. He kicks a pebble into a pile of boulders. David’s making a big deal about climbing into the back of the pickup to get the shovels, creating lots of tinny noises in the background. “That Cas is still Cas of course, but he’s not my Cas. Dean has nothing to worry about.”

“I know that,” Sam acknowledges. He smiles ruefully, “but Dean doesn’t even know that what he’s feeling is jealousy yet.”

Dean senior looks across at his son rummaging in the back of the truck. “No. We were pretty oblivious back then.”

“How did you even get together?” Sam looks across to watch David too. The dark-haired, blue-eyed miniature version of Cas is easier to look at while having this conversation than looking into the exhausted, sad eyes of Dean. “I can’t see either of them making the first move.”

Dean flicks a glance at him, and doesn’t reply straight away.

“S’okay,” Sam says hurriedly. “You don’t have to say. Sorry, I shouldn’t be nosy.”

“Cas got sick,” Dean says after a moment, “Pneumonia. Damn fool angel didn’t look after himself properly and he nearly died. I’m sure you can guess the rest. It’s irrelevant really exactly what it was - if it wasn’t that it would have been something else, we were on the edge of it for so long. How long’s he been fallen?”

“Just a few weeks,” Sam replies.

“Take care of him. He acts as if he knows what he’s doing but he’s got no real clue.”

There’s a thump as David jumps out of the back of the pickup onto the dusty road, a shovel in each hand.

“I’m not sure Cas would let anyone take care of him,” Sam says.

David’s coming back towards them now, dragging the heavy shovels. Dean and Cas have turned back and are heading their way too. Dean senior seems to mentally shake himself. 

“Yeah, ain’t that the truth… hey, David, you ready kiddo?” Dean takes a shovel.

“Yeah, Dad. Are we gonna find Dad?”

“I sure hope so.”

They don’t. That would be too easy, of course. They find wards and sigils galore. Even a little dried animal blood on a stone altar, but nothing that could be taken as serious recent activity.

Depressed, they get into the Impala and the truck and head to site number two.


	5. Chapter 5

The journey to the second site is a long one – to be precise it would take them three days if they were driving it at anything like a sensible speed. But they’re not planning on driving it at a sensible speed and they’re trying to do it in two days, the four adults taking turns driving the two vehicles and not stopping except for bathroom breaks, take-out and gas. 

They’ve divided up as they had for the trip to the first site - Dean Senior, David and Cas in the impala, and Dean and Sam in the truck - and as a result, Dean’s moody and monosyllabic, and Sam knows it’s not because he’s driving the truck instead of the impala, even though Dean says is. Sam gave up trying to talk to him around about the time of the last coffee stop which is why when Dean grumbles, “Cas doesn’t even like kids,” Sam’s startled awake from his doze against the passenger window.

The statement’s completely without context and Sam can’t even begin to imagine where else Dean’s mind is rambling that made it decide that particular thought was the one thought worth sharing out loud. 

“I think Cas is as much confused by the fact that David likes him as you are, if that’s any help,” Sam says, yawning and stretching his arms out in front of him towards the dash to ease the muscles that have cramped up while he slept.

Dean snaps his head right briefly to look at Sam, before turning back to watch the road, and the red rear lights of the impala in front of them. Sam gets the impression that Dean either didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud, or that Sam would be listening if he did, but he recovers quickly. “We need to find David’s real Dad,” Dean says and Sam nods in agreement.

“You’ll get no argument from me. It’s just… ,” he starts, then stops. 

“It’s just what?” Dean asks, flicking a glance Sam’s way.

Sam’s been over his notes a few times now and although he hasn’t had a chance to talk to Cas to try his ideas out, he’s pretty sure he’s right – he’s more confident that he’s right than he was yesterday when they left the bunker, in any case. He’s got to tell Dean what he thinks sometime - that the kidnappers plan to take the artifact and keep Cas - and he doesn’t know what holds him back. Something does though so he shakes his head. “Nothing. I was just thinking… but it’s nothing important.” 

Dean stifles a yawn and scratches his stubble. “So what do we do?”

“We’re doing it. I don’t know what else to suggest.”

“Man… ,” Dean says wearily, “I just want to go home, you know? You, me, Cas… ”

“But we promised to help.”

“Yeah, I know, but, crap Sam, Cas is up there with that guy and his kid – he should be back here with us.” As the words leave Dean’s mouth, fast and furious, his face takes on a familiar stricken look, like he’s said too much. “I just mean Cas hasn’t been driving for long, that’s all. We should be watching out for him.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence. “You want to talk about it?” Sam asks, not especially hopeful.

“There’s nothing to talk about man. I’m tired and I want us to go home.”

Sam sighs quietly to himself and goes back to staring out of the passenger window.

#

Both cars stop at the next gas station. Cas hauls himself out of the impala’s driver’s seat at the same time Dean drops from the truck. Sam climbs out and starts putting Diesel into the truck.

“We all need a break,” Cas says quietly, walking over to the truck as Dean Senior steps out and starts the gas pump to fill the impala. Cas looks over his shoulder. “He won’t want to stop, but we have to – at least a couple of hours anyway. I’m exhausted.” He looks it, dark shadows under his eyes and a slump in his normal stance.

Dean yawns as if on cue and Cas smiles at him tiredly. “Do I take that as agreement?”

“Hell, yeah,” Dean says, leaning back against the truck’s wing. Cas joins him, propping himself up, his shoulder and upper arm brushing against Dean’s. Sam smiles fondly. Neither of them seems to notice as they settle against each other silently and companionably. 

Dean Senior stops pumping gas, and hangs up the pump looking their way. “Time to move on,” he says, loud enough to be heard across the forecourt. Cas looks pleadingly at Dean, and Dean peels himself off the truck and pats Cas on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. I’ve got it.” He walks across the tarmac.

#

Dean Senior wasn’t happy but they do end up stopping in a tacky roadside motel five miles further on. At least this time, Dean seems pleased when Dean Senior gets a room with David, and Dean, Cas and Sam end up sharing.

They flop into bed as soon as they get into the room, each taking one of the three queens without bothering to undress or even without the usual argument about who gets the bed nearest the window, which as it happens is Sam.

Sam falls asleep to the sound of Dean’s slowing breathing and Cas fidgeting to get comfortable.

He’s woken up the sound of urgent pounding on the door. He stumbles off the bed, still woozy with sleep. “Who is it?” he says loud enough to be heard from outside. Dean and Cas are up and standing either side of the door, Dean with his gun drawn and ready.

“It’s me. Open up.” Dean Senior. 

Dean drops his gun hand, though keeps the weapon handy. Sam flips the latch and Dean senior pushes in as soon as the door’s open. 

“What’s happening?” Sam asks, checking briefly outside, before closing the door and turning back into the room. “Where’s David?”

“David’s still sleeping.” Dean senior is staring at Cas and holding his cellphone out. His hand is shaking so violently he almost drops it. “There’s a photo attached to the text.” 

Cas takes the phone, then frowns. “Oh.” He passes the phone to Sam who’s closest.

Sam looks. It’s not good news. The text is to the point. ‘We know you’re looking. When you find us you’d better have the artifact,’ but the photo – the photo shows Cas, one defiant blue eye visible through swelling and bruising that trails all down his cheek, one arm stretched straight up above his head, attached to a manacle and chain that hang from a hook screwed into the fissure between two huge slabs of stone. He’s half-facing away from the camera and fresh, bloody weals are just visible on his back, through the rips in his shirt. 

“Damn,” Sam whispers, appalled. He cradles the phone loosely in his palm and Dean grabs it. 

Dean’s mouth narrows to a thin, hard line. “We’ll get the bastards, and we’ll get Cas back,” he says, handing the phone back to Dean senior and moving to stand next to Cas. “Where’s the artifact?”

“Please tell me it’s safe at the bunker,” Sam pleads.

Dean senior looks at him defiantly. “It’s in the trunk of the car.” He glances at Cas, then at Dean. “I can’t lose him.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I get it,” Dean says after an awkward moment. 

Sam’s shaking his head in disbelief at the stupidity of Dean Senior bringing the artifact with them, let alone being willing to hand it over, and he stops and looks over at Dean in surprise when he speaks. “You get it? Dean - we can’t give up the artifact.”

“Well, yeah, I get that too,” Dean says. He’s looking at Dean senior. “But that doesn’t mean to say I don’t understand why he brought it with him.” He glances sideways at Cas, briefly. “And why he wants to do a trade. Cas is our friend. We’d look at trading, too.”

“Dean - “

“Sam,” Dean interrupts, “I said I understand where he’s coming from. I didn’t say I went along with it. Cas’ll understand, right man? He’ll understand why we can’t?” Dean asks unhappily, looking sideways at Cas for confirmation. Dean’s standing so close to Cas he has to squint to focus.

Cas looks briefly at Dean, but then aims his response at Dean senior. “We can’t hand the device over, obviously,” Cas says, adding “I’m sorry,” when he catches Dean senior’s gaze and lifts it to his. “In any case…,” Cas trails off, hesitating.

“In-any-case, what?” Dean asks. 

“In any case, there’s something I think you should know, given we have the artifact with us. It’s imperative we don’t hand it over, because it’s not going to be a trade.” Cas looks pensively from one Dean to the other. Sam should have known Cas would work it out. Cas probably saw it before he did. Sam wipes his hand nervously over his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, waiting to see who blows first.

“Meaning?” both Dean and Dean senior ask at the same time.

“Meaning, that to make this spell work, as far as I can tell, they’re going to need both the device and a fallen angel,” Cas says. 

“You’re saying they’re not going to give him back?” Dean senior asks. His hands ball into fists at his sides, the knuckles white.

“I don’t believe so.” Cas’s face is screwed up in apology. Dean senior looks as if he’s trying to find something to take a sledgehammer to, and Dean looks as if he’s swallowed a particularly nasty fly. 

Cas drops his head to stare at the floor, like he’s aware of the emotions he’s showing and is ashamed of them (after all, look at who he’s had to learn from). Sam feels briefly guilty that Cas was the one who had to tell them, that Sam didn’t tell Dean when he had the chance, but when Cas looks up again, he looks determined, like the single-minded soldier he was, a long time ago, and the promise he makes is passionate and highly convincing. “But we’ll get him back. I know what he means to you, and to David, so we’ll find him and you’ll get him back.” 

#

That promise, of course, turns out to need a plan, which they don’t really have, not a good one anyway. They had a half-baked plan but that was before they knew that the cult knew they were coming.

First off, to remove temptation, and to prevent the risk of losing the thing, Dean goes with Dean senior to hide the artifact, dropping off a still-sleeping David with Sam and Cas before heading out in the impala. They’re going to loop around a few times and make sure they’re not being followed. Add to that the temperature’s dropped and ground frost and black ice are forming, freezing the ground solid and making driving and digging difficult, they might be a while. That’s okay, Sam and Cas need the time to work out some details of exactly how they’re going to get Cas back, filling in the holes in their existing plans. 

It also gives Sam a chance to talk to Cas. Sam’s getting worried about how emotionally invested Cas has become in this family. He hasn’t seen Cas much the last couple of days as Cas has spent most of his time in the car with Dean senior and David. If he’d seen him more, he’s sure he’d have seen the danger signs. It’s at times when Cas is like this that he does dumb things, albeit with the best of intentions, and Sam doesn’t want to be the one who saw it coming and did nothing to stop it. Dean would kill him, for starters.

Sam lays a map of the next Native American site on one table, and a map of the third on Sam’s bed. “This really matters to you, doesn’t it?” Sam asks quietly, so as not to wake David, as he places a pin in the map on the table at the exact center point of the next site on their list.

“They’re a family who care deeply about each other. We save people like them, don’t we? It’s supposed to matter to me, I think you’ll find.” Cas’s voice is steady, but there’s something in it that speaks of strong emotions just below the surface. It’s just hard to work out what emotion when they’re both staring down at a map.

Sam looks up, but Cas doesn’t, so Sam ends up looking at the top of Cas’s head. Sam’s not sure if it’s deliberate or not, that Cas keeps his face hidden. 

“We’re a family too. We care about each other, don’t we?” Sam asks.

“It’s not the same,” Cas says. He crosses to his bag, rummages around for a minute or two, then comes back with some string and a red permanent marker. He ties the string to the center pin, then uses the string and the marker to draw a perfect quarter-circle to the west of the site marked by the center pin. They’ll be approaching the site from the West.

“Cas,” Sam starts hesitantly. “Dean would trade for you, you know that don’t you?”

Cas’s hand fumbles as he removes the string from the map, his movements giving away what his voice isn’t. “He wouldn’t, and he’d be right not to. He’d trade for you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Hell no,” Sam says a little too loud. David stirs in his sleep. He lowers his voice. “You’re missing my point, Cas. Dean loves you.”

“I’m his friend. Any affection you see is the affection of one friend for another. Don’t let the current circumstances fool you. Ask Dean, and he’ll confirm what I’m telling you.” Cas pulls a little hex bag from his right hand jeans pocket and puts it on the map. He still won’t look at Sam.

“You’re wrong, dude. What you see from me is the affection of one friend for another. What you see from Dean is something else entirely. And okay, I admit I didn’t see it until we got here, and I admit that Dean might not be ready to admit it yet, but it’s so frigging obvious, you’ve got to see it.”

“Sam, shut up.” Cas hisses in an annoyed voice. He glances over at David before leaning in to whisper in angry sibilance. “That’s enough. You’re wrong.”

“Why is it so important to you that I’m wrong?” Sam asks. “If I was right, would it stop you doing whatever stupid thing it is you’ve got planned?”

Cas pulls back quickly, and seriously Sam’s going to have to play him at poker some day because the guy’s hopeless at keeping a straight face. “I’m not planning anything - except this,” Cas says waving a hand at the map. 

Sam doesn’t believe him. Cas is definitely up to something.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time the two Deans get back it’s almost morning and none of them have had the sleep they so desperately needed. Sam hears the car pull up and he wearily shifts the curtain to one side, glad to see both Deans getting out of the car still in one piece, and even better and more surprisingly, apparently talking to each other. Wonders will never cease.

Sam and Cas have finished their pseudo planning. Pseudo in Sam’s mind because Sam’s still convinced Cas has something else up his sleeve even though what they’ve come up with is plausible despite a couple of risky parts to it that they still need to iron out. David’s awake and breakfasted (a chocolate bar from the vending machine after strict instructions that he doesn’t tell his dad), and he’s talking to Cas whose casting some harmless spells to distract the boy using a iron ritual bowl set between them where they’re sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What’s this one do?” David asks.

“Wait and see.” Cas adds a green and gold caterpillar to the bowl, still wriggling in his gentle grip. Sam’s not sure where Cas got the caterpillar from but he’s too tired to find the energy to ask.

There’s a bit of a glow in the bowl and David leans over to look inside. “Woah!” he exclaims, then he jumps out of the way as a caterpillar twenty times the size of the one that went into the bowl, climbs out. Sam takes a step back in surprise. That’s one way to wake up.

“Can we do that on a cat? On a person? On a lion?” David asks, excitedly.

Cas doesn’t get to answer (which is a shame because Sam’s actually curious about that one too) because he’s distracted by the door opening as Dean walks in, followed closely by Dean Senior, both men rubbing their hands, warming them against the freezing weather outside. David’s full attention switches to his dad and he rushes over to him.

“Dad, you okay?” David asks, looking Dean Senior up and down, and nodding with seeming satisfaction when he can’t find any damage. Hunter family trait, Sam supposes. Maybe it’s in their genes.

“I’m good kiddo,” Dean Senior says, sounding anything but okay to Sam’s ears.

David’s picked up by his father and David objects but wraps his arms around his dad’s neck anyway. “I’m too big to be picked up, Dad.”

Dean Senior carries him over to the bed. “Not right now you’re not,” he says. “Your old man needs a hug. What’ve you been doing?”

“Cas has been teaching me some spells.” David points on to the bed by the pillow where the giant caterpillar sits. “Look.”

“Holy hell… “ Dean Senior says, suddenly changing his mind about sitting down next to Cas.

Cas, Dean Senior and David being temporarily distracted by the caterpillar, Sam decides it’s a good time to talk to Dean about Cas. Sam turns to his brother, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him to one side.

“What?” Dean asks, looking down at Sam’s hand on his arm and then back up to Sam’s face.

“I’m worried about Cas,” he says quietly so that he can’t be heard on the other side of the room.

Dean looks across at where Cas is picking up the giant caterpillar and shudders. “Gross.” He looks back at Sam. “What’s up with him? He looks okay to me - tired, but okay?”

“I think he’s planning something dangerous - you’ve got to convince him … I dunno, convince him he’s important to you. Tell him how you feel.”

“How I feel, Sammy?” Dean screws up his face. Sam seriously doesn’t know why he’s the one who always gets labeled with the bitch-face moniker - Dean gives as good as he gets.

“Yes, Dean. How you feel about him.”

Dean leans in, and whispers, “He’s my friend, Sam, that’s how I feel about him. He knows he’s my friend. He knows I care about him, but I don’t love him if that’s what you mean. It’s that guy over there that loves his Cas. You need to stop confusing us. We’re not the same person.”

Sam stares at Dean in disbelief and the words come out in strangled, puttering, disjointed phrases. “You and him … you’re like … this has been going on for years … I’m not blind Dean, even if you are! It won’t take much to turn you and Cas into future Dean and future Cas - you know that right?”

“What I know,” Dean hisses, jabbing a forefinger into Sam’s chest and making him inadvertently take a step back, “is that future Dean over there only got together with his Cas because Cas got sick. Yeah, he told me,” Dean adds at Sam’s surprised expression. “So I’m not going to let Cas get sick. It’s that simple.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Sam splutters, “Stopping Cas getting sick isn’t going to stop - “

“And, do you know what, Mr Couples Counselor?” Dean interrupts, “You’re not one to be giving me relationship advice. You know that chick future you is marrying in California? She’s your fourth frigging wife. So just don’t okay?”

Fourth… “What?”

Dean looks smug at Sam’s crestfallen expression. “We’re going now,” Dean says, “if you’re done?” Sam doesn’t answer. “Yeah, thought so. And Cas can come with me in the truck and I’ll make sure he doesn’t try anything dangerous. Is that okay with you? Good.” Dean turns away shaking his head.

Sam’s staring blankly at the empty space where Dean was mere seconds ago (fourth?) and he only vaguely hears Dean’s voice raised to be heard on the other side of the room. “We’re leaving. Get your stuff.”

He always thought he’d be the stable till-death-do-us-part type. Fourth? Dean nudges Sam and Sam turns to look at him, still a little blind-sided. As soon as Sam looks at Dean and Dean seems certain he’s got Sam’s attention he calls out, “Cas, don’t forget to put your coat on, it’s frigging freezing out there,” then Dean raises an eyebrow. “See. Cas isn’t going to get sick. Easy,” he says, before turning away.

Yeah, easy. Fourth wife. Hell.

Dean grabs his bag from the motel floor, and picks up Cas’s in his other hand. “You’re with me, man,” he says to Cas, in a way that brooks no disagreement. Cas tilts his head inquiringly but doesn’t voice the question that hovers on his face.

Five minutes later they’re on the road. Sam driving the Impala, with Dean Senior riding shotgun staring out of the window when he should be trying to sleep. David’s in the back seat making notes in a journal, maybe about the spells Cas showed him. Sam doesn’t ask. Close behind them the headlamps of the truck shine in the dim light of dawn. Sam hopes Dean’s telling Cas what he needs to hear.


	8. Chapter 8

The truck’s not behind them any more. Despite not being looked after as well as the impala, it’s got a lot more oomph where it counts under the hood and Dean overtook them, with a lazy salute, about an hour ago, leaving dust and smelly exhaust fumes in his wake. Dean and Cas will have a coffee advantage when they meet up again as planned and Sam’s envious, the thought of strong, hot caffeine not anywhere near as good at keeping him awake as the actual coffee would be.

Dean Senior did fall asleep eventually, exhaustion adding to the soporific effect of the low tones of the radio and the familiar rumble of the impala’s engine, though it’s a restless sleep, full of twitches and mumbles and it’s making David, unnaturally quiet in the back seat behind his dad, unsettled and nervous. Sam can see him edging closer to his dad, sitting as far forward as he can without falling down the gap between the front edge of the rear seat and the back of the front seat, his journal long since forgotten, and one elbow propped by his dad’s head.

“Hey?” Sam calls softly so as not to wake Dean Senior. “You okay?” 

David shrugs. “’Course,” he says, and turns his head to stare out of the window. With a sigh Sam goes back to concentrating on the road. It’s not really surprising the kid’s feeling down although he can’t help feeling guilty for separating David and Cas. The kid needs someone to talk to and Sam is not that person.

But despite feeling guilty, Sam doesn’t have any actual regrets. Even if David isn’t happy, Sam is happier than he was knowing that Cas is now with Dean. Whatever he was planning, Cas is much less likely to do something idiotic under Dean’s watch. Despite anything that Dean might say to the contrary (or Cas might think to the contrary), Dean watches Cas like a hawk, hyper-aware of where he is and what he’s doing, always on the lookout for something that might be wrong or be about to go wrong. Sam’s especially ecstatic that Cas won’t have an opportunity to try anything given that the Winchester brothers happy-ever-after is going to be Dean and Cas and not Sam and some beautiful, intelligent, civilized woman, the way he’d always assumed it would be. 

Sam shakes his head as if he can shake the thoughts away (it doesn’t work), and he tries to go back to concentrating on the road. Maybe he should ask David or Dean Senior for the name of the fourth wife and then perhaps he can bypass the first three next time around. 

Four hours and a change of driver later, they reach the spot where they’d pre-arranged to meet up with Dean and Cas. Sam peers around the small, busy parking lot looking for the truck while Dean Senior maneuvers the impala around the parked cars and to-ing and fro-ing traffic looking for a space.

“I don’t see it.” Sam peers right and left.

“Over there,” David says suddenly, sticking his arm forward to point excitedly and nearly clipping Sam on the ear. Sam looks where David’s pointing and he’s relieved to see the rear of the truck jutting out from around the corner of the building. David’s got a hand on the door handle ready to jump out as soon as the car stops. “I’ll go and tell Cas we’re here, Dad. Park the car. I wanna show Cas the spells I put in my journal. Hurry up, Dad,” he says urgently, fidgeting in his haste. 

“Hold your horses, kiddo,” Dean Senior mutters, turning the car to the right towards the truck and easing it carefully into the space that’s made for smaller modern-day cars, not the behemoth that is a vintage Chevy.

David has his door open and is rushing into the restaurant before Dean’s even turned the engine off. Sam stares after him in amusement.

“He’s pretty excited about seeing Cas, huh?” he says.

“You think David’s bad with your Cas, you should see him with my Cas. He adores his dad. I adore his dad.” Sam looks across sharply and Dean Senior’s staring at the spot his son disappeared, his eyes starting to water suspiciously. There’s an ache in his voice and in his eyes and Sam turns away, embarrassed. “God, but I was a frigging idiot back then. Had no idea what I had, what I could have. Cas was just this dorky little guy that was my best friend. I feel like kicking your brother every time I see them together.” Dean chokes on the last word and Sam clears his throat.

“We’ll get him back,” Sam says, gently.

Dean Senior wipes a hand over his face. “I fucking hope so,” he says. He reaches for the door handle, pulls it to open the door, then pauses. “If we don’t, if it fails, just… thanks, you know, for your help.”

“We’ll get him back,” Sam insists and Dean Senior forces a smile.

“Damn right we will,” Dean says after a moment, his voice raw and rough.

By the time they get inside the restaurant, David’s sitting with Dean, chattering ten to the dozen, his child’s voice carrying through the busy restaurant as a high-pitched, indecipherable babble. Dean looks tired and bemused. Cas is no-where to be seen and Sam looks around for him as they walk to the booth Dean and David are sitting at.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Dean says, glancing up at Sam and apparently reading his mind. Sam relaxes a little. “You worry too much,” Dean adds. Sam scowls at him. Someone has to worry apparently. 

The waitress, plump and friendly, waddles over with three cups and coffee and leaves two minutes later with an order for David’s banana milkshake, Cas’s blueberry milkshake (after Dean Senior pointed out, much to Dean’s disgruntlement, that Cas is allergic to strawberries and does Dean want to kill him?), and five of the fastest burgers on the menu. Sam hadn’t noticed at first but now he’s confused that Dean and Cas haven’t already ordered, because by his calculations they should have been here for at least half an hour.

“How long have you been here?” 

“Five or ten minutes. We had to stop and pick up the dummy artifact. It took longer than I thought it would. Cas couldn’t find what he wanted.”

“What dummy artifact?” Sam asks, puzzled.

“For your plan, idiot. That dummy artifact.” 

There’s no dummy artifact in their plan but before Sam can ask, the two milkshakes arrive and Sam swallows his impatience while the waitress place them on the table and smiles sweetly at David. You can tell she’s just dying to ruffle the kid’s hair. 

“I’m going to piss,” David pipes up loudly, and the waitresses smile slips as she beats a hasty retreat. David’s father almost laughs.

“Check Cas is okay in there,” Dean calls after David’s disappearing back, before turning back to the table and Sam’s slightly incredulous expression. “What? He’s been in there almost ten minutes and he’s still learning this stuff.”

“We don’t need a dummy artifact for our plan,” Sam says, shaking his head, then turning to look worriedly at the empty corridor to the bathroom. 

“What are you saying?” Dean asks, shifting to follow Sam’s gaze. “Why would Cas lie?”

Dean Senior stares at Sam, then at Dean. “Cas lied because he’s going to do something stupid. He’s saying Cas has a different plan. Isn’t that what you’re saying Sam?” Sam nods, unhappily. “I should have frigging known,” Dean Senior mutters, looking down at where his hands are gripped tightly around his cup of coffee, clearly upset. “But I won’t have it. I won’t have him put himself in danger. Cas would never forgive me.”

“I know you said you thought he was planning something dangerous, Sam, but you’re serious?” Dean asks, an edge to his tone that Sam recognizes all too well - Dean’s scared.

“Do you know Cas at all?” Dean Senior spits out. “This is all your frigging fault. Cas doesn’t know how you feel, you dick.”

“Why the hell is all this about how I feel, for fuck’s sake?” Dean mutters, clearly annoyed. “You and Sam ganging up on me now? Cas is my friend.”

“You love him!” Dean Senior says, eyes blazing with furious passion.

Dean loses it. “So what if I do?” he yells, and Sam stares at him. At frigging last. People in the restaurant turn around nervously at the raised voices. “How the hell is this my fault? And what are we even worrying about anyway? We’ll talk to him when he comes back and if he’s got some wild idea about going it alone, then we’ll stop him.”

Dean Senior looks as if he’s happy to keep the shouting match going but then David bursts out of the bathroom, the door slamming into the wall as it opens making everyone turn that way, runs through the restaurant and around the tables annoying the other diners, and slides across the tiled floor to their table. His little face is full of fright. “He’s not there,” he gasps.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean scrabbles out of the bench seat and beelines for the bathroom, his face hard and determined. Sam and Dean Senior slide rapidly out too, Dean Senior grabbing David’s hand as soon as they’re out, and pulling him towards the front door of the restaurant. “We’ll check outside.” Sam bobs his head at them in acknowledgment.

Sam grabs some notes hastily out of his wallet to pay for everything they ordered but haven’t drank and eaten and tosses them towards the table where they flutter down and off onto one of the seats. Sam curses but turns away leaving the notes where they fell, desperate to find Cas before he gets away from them, and as he turns he bowls straight into Dean hurrying back to the table.

“The kid’s right, he’s not there,” Dean says. Sam knew David was right, it’s not as if Sam didn’t see it coming and he resists the urge to say ‘I told you so’. “Ten frigging minutes, that’s all he was gone for,” Dean continues, completely oblivious to Sam’s frustration. They could have stopped this, dammit. “He can’t have gone far,” Dean rants on, seething. “What the hell is he thinking?” he asks, under his breath. 

There’s so many ways Sam could answer that but he decides, for the sake of expediency, that the question’s rhetorical. 

“There’s so much traffic in and out of this place. He could have already got a ride,” Sam says, as they both turn hurriedly and head to the door.

“I hope the hell not.” Dean yanks his cell out of his pocket and speed dials. He listens for maybe ten seconds and he’s about to hang up when Sam thinks he hears something, grab’s Dean’s elbow. “What?” Dean asks, surprised.

“Don’t hang up - listen,” Sam says, then “Shhh,” when Dean’s about to say something else. Sam cocks an ear, and Dean does too. A faint ringing, back by the booth they recently hurriedly vacated. 

They both take a step that way, then Dean, who has the phone back to his ear, says “It rang out,” and a second later, the ringing stops. 

“Ring it again,” Sam says, and Dean does. The ringing noise by the booth starts up again. They find Cas’s phone tucked under the seat and there’s no way it got there by accident. 

“Damn. What the hell is he up to?” Dean asks. 

“Fairly obvious that whatever it is, he knows we won’t approve.” Sam gives Dean Cas’s phone. “Let’s go.”

They barge out of the door and Sam has a sudden, worrying thought. The dummy artifact Cas picked up on the way is starting to make sense in a very scary way. “We need to check that dummy artifact you were talking about. See if he’s taken it.”

They rush to the truck and Dean jumps inside, starts rummaging around behind the driver’s seat, then the passenger seat. “It’s gone,” he says, face grim, as he climbs back out. He stares at Sam. “Come on, man, what’s he up to? You know don’t you? Is he going to try and trade their Cas for the artifact?”

Sam sighs, chews his lip and settles on the only option he knows is viable. “I suspect, but I don’t know for sure, okay?” he warns. “But Cas knows he can’t swap the artifact for this time’s Cas because the cult needs both. But Dean - a fallen angel and a supernatural battery is everything that cult needs. I’m fairly sure Cas is going to trade the whole package, him and the artifact.”

Sam waits for the expected explosion. It doesn’t come but what he gets is just as bad, Dean’s tense, angst-ridden and seemingly genuinely confused question is little more than a whisper. “Why? Why would he do that?” His eyes flicker sideways over Sam’s shoulder as he speaks and Sam turns his head to see Dean and David making their way through the car park, checking any vehicles about to leave. Sam turns back to Dean. He thinks Dean already knows why Cas would do that.

“You really want me to say it out loud?”

Dean grunts, turns back to face Sam, daring Sam now. “Yeah. I do. You want to right? ‘Cos it’s all my fault, right?”

How can his brother be so frigging annoying and self-centered? Okay, so it is Dean’s fault a little bit, but it’s also Cas’s fault too, the two of them trying to out-self-sacrifice each other. Between his brother and his best friend, Sam’s life is a frigging roller-coaster and he’s fed up of it, so if Dean wants to hear it, Sam can definitely do that. “Okay, Dean, if you want me to say it then Cas thinks that Dean and David need their Cas more than we need him.”

“That’s frigging ridiculous.” Dean stares at him and for a moment, Sam thinks Dean’s going to hit him, but then he turns and kicks a tire instead. 

Luckily they’re saved from any further, more destructive, displays of frustration (so Sam briefly fools himself into thinking) by a shout from behind Sam and Sam turns to find Dean Senior and David a lot closer now and working their way towards them. 

Dean Senior’s shaking his head. “No sign,” he says as soon as he’s within hearing distance.

“Fuck,” Dean says, this time kicking the low wall near the restaurant entrance. “He’s a damn fool.”

“You’re the damn fool,” Dean Senior says, walking forward aggressively until he’s chest to chest, nose to nose with Dean. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him.”

Sam and David both react at the same time with simultaneous shocked exclamations as Dean Senior shoves Dean back so hard that he stumbles.

“Guys!“ 

“Dad!“

Dean doesn’t shove back, just collects himself, then stands his ground a few feet away. Dean Senior stares at him, almost as if he’s daring Dean to respond so he’s got an excuse to shove him again, or maybe worse, but then David grabs his sleeve and tugs. “Dad… don’t. Please. You can’t tell me it’s wrong if you do it. It’s hippo… hypakrat…”

“Hypocritical.” Dean says. Dean Senior and David both look at him in annoyance, then Dean Senior takes a big breath, visibly tamping down the angry energy, looks down at David then up again at Dean. 

“You get in the truck and get on the road,” Dean Senior says to Dean and Sam, “I’ll go find out if anyone saw him leave, and if you find him… I dunno, tie him to something - unless you can think of something you can say to him to stop him?” he adds sarcastically.

##

They’re in the truck only fifteen minutes out on the road to Cumberland Plateau, their original destination because where else would Cas go, when Dean Senior calls them on Sam’s cell. Sam can hear the smooth rumble of the impala starting up as Dean Senior talks, which presumably means he’s just leaving the restaurant. 

“He was seen getting into a large silver Toyota saloon. “That’s all I got, but there can’t be too many of those on the road around here. Keep an eye out for it, though he’s probably got almost thirty minutes head start on you. David and I are heading out now. We’re only a couple of hours from the site. If we don’t find Cas on the road, we’ll see you at the west side as arranged. We can’t… we still have to… ,” Dean Senior stutters and draws to a slow halt, then, “I’m sorry.”

Sam swallows. He knows what Dean Senior’s saying, and he glances across at Dean, watches him as he talks. “No. It’s okay. I understand. Your Cas is in more immediate danger than our Cas right now.” Dean’s eyes narrow and his brow furrows with a tension Sam shares, but Dean doesn’t say anything. “If we don’t find our Cas before we get there, we go ahead as planned.”

Dean is speeding up, well above the legal limit, by the time Sam hangs up. “We’ll find him,” is all he says with more determination than common sense. A thirty minute head start in a two hour journey is beyond even the capability of the old truck, and Sam’s not surprised when, despite driving at dangerous speeds, they don’t find the silver Toyota saloon on the road in the time that it takes them to reach the designated meeting place, and Dean pulls reluctantly onto the dry, dusty shoulder. There’s a couple of other vehicles, an RV and a Ford station wagon, both empty. There’s no-one around and they settle to wait for the others. 

Dean’s mood isn’t inviting any form of interaction, in fact he hasn’t said a word since his too-hopeful ‘we’ll find him’ earlier in the car, so Sam’s surprised when Dean starts up a conversation.

“I love him like a brother,” Dean murmurs, rough and low, like he’s practiced the words again and again in his head and now they’re coming out schooled and emotionless.

Sam turns to look at Dean. Dean’s not looking back. “Are you sure it’s like a brother?” Sam asks, gently.

Dean sighs, looks out of the side window towards the desert before he speaks again. His voice is barely audible, and Sam strains to hear it. He’s not even sure he’s supposed to. “Not anymore.” Sam doesn’t say anything and after a moment Dean huffs loudly. “Doesn’t matter anyway because it takes two to tango and I’m pretty sure Cas wouldn’t want that.”

“Pretty sure he would,” Sam says. Dean shrugs the idea off, physically, as well as mentally. “Dean,” Sam insists, gripping his brother’s shoulder and squeezing. “He would. It’s kind of why we’re in this damn mess.” Sam sighs in frustration. “If you’d told him-“ Sam gives up. He stares at Dean with some sympathy, but with a lot more annoyance. “It doesn’t matter,” Sam says finally. “Let’s get the other Cas back then we can look for ours.” All he gets from Dean is a grunt so after a few minutes of awkward silence he climbs out of the truck and settles against the front wheel arch. The sun’s dipping on the horizon. He looks at his watch - seven pm. It’s been a long day. A long two days. 

A couple come into sight with a small boy, they walk towards the station wagon - the man and woman are happy, smiling, holding hands, the boy’s playing with a model airplane holding it in his hand and making engine noises as he runs up and down and around his parents. Sam wonders if that was what Dean and Cas and David were like before all this. He hopes so (though maybe without the sickly lovey-dovey expressions), though he’s struggling right now to understand how the hell his brother got from the emotionally-repressed, relationship-dysfunctional Dean that he knows sitting in the truck worrying about the fact that he like-likes his best friend to the loving father and companion that Dean is today. 

When the family get into the parked car and drive away Sam sighs and reluctantly bring his thoughts back to the present.

He wishes Dean Senior and David would hurry up. He’s worried about their Cas and he acknowledges they don’t know where he is and they have no way of getting in touch with him, and so if they can, getting this Cas back first makes sense but still Sam wants it done fast so that they can get on and resume their search for Cas, hopefully stopping him before he accomplishes what he set out to do. He’d start without Dean Senior and David if he could, but he can’t. He needs David, or specifically they need the son of Cas’s DNA. Sam looks at his watch, turns to rest his arms on the truck and peer over the top of it to watch the long straight road leading to this spot. 

When Sam finally spots the impala on the horizon, his relief is palpable and when the impala pulls up behind them, Dean finally gets out of the truck.

“Are we ready?” Dean Senior asks, and Sam nods. 

“As we’ll ever be. David? Are you ready?” David nods solemnly. He’d been excited for a while when he’d found out only he could make the spell work, but now that they’re actually here and they’re actually going to do it, he’s quiet and nervous.

Sam’s already grabbing the ground charcoal from the back of the truck, and he warns them all as he pulls the sack over the edge, “Remember, he might not be at this site. Just don’t get your hopes up too high.” He looks across at Dean as he says it, Dean’s playing with something, twirling it around in his hand, and when Sam looks closer, it’s Cas’s phone. 

“Can we get this show on the road?” Dean asks, scowling and pocketing the phone when he notices Sam watching. “We’ll try not to get too optimistic, Samantha, considering we’re so prone to that,” he adds sarcastically.

“Jesus, do you bicker with everybody about everything?” Dean Senior asks, before turning, and marching away, shaking his head. David follows him, jogging a few steps to catch up, then Sam turns and joins them. Sam checks over his shoulder after he’s gone about twenty yards to check Dean’s following. He is, and he’s playing with Cas’s phone again.

They haven’t gone far when they need to split up, Dean and Dean Senior heading off at two different tangents to cut around the site with the paintings, to approach it from different angles, their only job to provide a distraction. Sam and David get as close as they dare to the area they think Cas will be if he’s here at all, then they hunker down and wait. There’s no sound and no sign of any life what-so-ever barring a couple of chipmunks coming close to see if they’ve got any food. Sam’s beginning to seriously doubt this is the site the cult has Cas - it’s too quiet and too undisturbed - and he’s dreading having to do all this again at the next site, the last on their list, another twelve hours drive away.

Dean’s message, ‘in position’, comes in first, followed five minutes later by Dean Senior’s. Sam turns to David and asks quietly, “You ready?” David nods. The kid looks petrified now that this is actually happening. “Don’t be scared,” Sam says. 

“Duh, I’m not scared,” Sam chuckles. He can’t help himself. 

David looks confused. “What?”

“You’re just like your dad,” Sam admits, softly. “He never admits when he’s scared either.” He holds out his hand and David looks at it briefly, then takes it. Sam grabs the bag of charcoal in his other hand. “Let’s do this.”

Sam and David methodically draw the necessary sigils on the ground with the ground charcoal. A couple of times Dean and Dean Senior check in to see how they’re doing but they both know it will take a while. An hour later, they’re done, and David pulls out his knife. Sam texts Dean and Dean Senior, ‘ready’. Five seconds later, there’s an almighty explosion from the direction Dean went, and two seconds later, a similar noise from the side Dean Senior took. Sam nods at David, and David places the blade against his skin, ready to cut, while Sam starts the short chant.

When he reaches the end of the first non-repeating section of the spell, David makes a small incision in his arm and a few drops of blood well in the cut. David drips them onto the center of the sigil. Sam keeps recanting the words of the spell. David makes another cut at the appropriate time, this one deeper, and runs a dribble of blood around the center of the sigil in a loose circle. Another verse, more blood. The sigil starts to spark and glow, the charcoal burning bright red in a supernatural heat. They reach the final verse of the spell, David drips a final five drops of blood at each of five star points, the charcoal bursts into small flames, burning itself out quickly - and absolutely nothing else happens. 

Most importantly, Cas does not magically appear in the middle of the circle of charcoal mixed with his son’s blood, unable to resist the summons of kin.

“Damn,” Sam says. He hands David a bandage to put on his bleeding arm. The cuts aren’t too deep but they’re seeping still.

“Maybe he’s not close enough”, David asks, distressed, mopping only absently at the wounds on his arm. “Because maybe we should move and do it again? Maybe we did something wrong. Dad’s got to be here somewhere. I think we did something wrong. We should try again.” The boy’s close to tears. Sam reaches a hand out to lay on his shoulder but David shakes it off. “I want to find my Dad,” he yells.

“I know you do and we will, but we’re close enough and we did everything right. We’ve still got places to look,” Sam reminds him. “It’s just going to take a little longer than we hoped, that’s all.” It’s not as if Sam doesn’t empathize with the kid. The longer they leave it, the more danger both Cas’s are in.

Sam’s phone buzzes with an incoming call. The call’s from Dean Senior and Sam dreads having to tell him it didn’t work.

“I’m sorry… “ Sam starts, but he’s cut off.

“I don’t think he’s here,” Dean Senior says urgently.

“Yeah probably, but how do you know?” Sam asks. He raises an eyebrow at David, who’s mouthing “Dad?” at him silently. Sam nods.

“I got a text,” Dean Senior says, “Just now, from the same number as before. There are some coordinates roughly twenty miles away.”

“Is that it? Just coordinates? How… ”

“No. It says ‘Your package is ready’. Look, I’ll meet you back at the cars. Hurry. Don’t forget to bring that bozo of a brother of yours.” As if Sam would.

Sam rings Dean, then he and David pick up the rest of the charcoal and make towards the cars at a run. Dean Senior’s already there, his position for the spell having taken him closer to the road but he’s also showing signs of having made it back at a mad rush, out of breath, and panting heavily. Dean, who had the furthest to come, arrives ten minutes later by which time Dean Senior’s almost tearing his hair out.

“It’s a trap,” Dean says automatically when he looks at the message.

“You’re probably right,” acknowledges Sam and he’s going to say that they have to go and check it out anyway, but Dean Senior beats him to it.

“I’m going, trap or no trap. You come if you want to.” He turns towards the impala and David skips around anxiously to the passenger side.

“We’re all going,” Dean says.

##

They approach the location of the coordinates (a crossroads of all things - Sam hopes it’s a coincidence) in a gung-ho manner that Sam’s not entirely happy with but this is finally something both Deans seem to agree on - charge in, all guns blazing and hope for the best.

David’s been left half a mile away and however much Dean Senior tried to convince him he’s the cavalry if everything goes wrong, the kid’s not stupid and he didn’t buy it. It didn’t make a jot of difference to his dad though whether he bought it or not, he stayed and that’s that. The last thing Sam sees in the rear window as they drive away leaving a cloud of dust behind them is David’s face pouting.

A mere five minutes later, they’re screeching to a halt, gravel scattering under their wheels. The impala is barreling towards them and as Sam and Dean open their doors, charging out, guns raised, the impala spins beside them stopping with a squeal of tires and leaving rubber on the road. Sam spares it barely a glance as he presses his back to Dean’s back, both of them circling with their weapons held out in front of then, ready to fire, looking for any hint of danger. But there’s nothing, no sign of anything amiss, no sound of anything other than a few birds perched on a bush under the directional sign-post. 

Dean Senior starts walking the perimeter of the junction, carefully, but quickly, gun drawn in one hand, knife in the other. Dean and Sam stay in the center, watching carefully but they lower their weapons a tad given there’s no immediate threat and not even a hint of an imminent threat.

“Anything?” Dean asks after Dean Senior’s covered half the area. A slight shake of the head is the only answer he gets. 

Dean Senior’s three quarters of the way around now and Sam wonders if something went wrong, if the coordinates were off or simply if all of them turning up in a rush with guns drawn scared off anyone that was here, but then he hears Dean Senior exclaim in surprise and run into the field by the road, before crouching down and disappearing from view.

Sam raises his weapon again and stares hard at the place Dean Senior disappeared.

“Do you think we should - ?“

“Get over here!” Dean Senior yells, answering Sam’s question before he’s finished it. His head briefly pops up above the grass presumably to check that they heard but Sam and Dean are already moving. They’re there quickly and they haven’t even left the road before they can see that Dean Senior’s crouching by someone lying in a huddle in the grass. 

Sam can’t tell from here if it’s Cas or not and he doesn’t know whether to hope it is Cas or not because whoever it is isn’t moving and if he’s dead, after all this… 

“Help me,” Dean Senior says. He’s running a hand along the unconscious figure’s side, his fingers exploring for injuries. Dean and Sam jump off the shoulder into the grass, and yep, definitely Cas, Dean Senior’s Cas, not theirs. 

They can see his face now, sore and swollen. “Is he alive?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” Dean Senior pats Cas’s bloody cheeks, and when there’s no response, pulls his eyelids open with two fingers. “Drugged,” he mutters. “Help me get him in the car.”

Dean Senior and Sam lift him, while Dean goes ahead and makes space on the back seat, laying a towel on the leather, and folding another towel as a pillow. 

Sam looks Cas over while they carry him. His face is scratched and bruised on one side. There’s barely any of his shirt left, the blue cotton hanging loosely in strips and rents, and through it Sam can see wounds a day or so old. Sam’s carrying Cas with his hands under his knees because one ankle looks swollen, maybe broken, maybe just sprained, and there are bloody gouges on his wrists where he’s been restrained. 

But he doesn’t look any worse than in the photo, and if Sam were to hazard a guess, the injuries were inflicted solely for the purpose of scaring Dean into compliance. Ultimately, it’s not good, but it could have been a lot worse. Blood’s been cleared away and nothing’s infected which speaks of after-injury care. Cas wasn’t supposed to die, at least not yet.

They place him as carefully into the car as they can, then they gather by the open rear door.

“They gave him up because they’ve got Cas, haven’t they?” Dean asks, resigned already to a positive answer. Then his cell beeps. With some trepidation, he pulls it out and flicks open the message. His face falls.

Dean hands his phone to Sam.

‘Thanks for the trade. Nice doing business with you’, the message reads with a smiley face at the end. There’s a photo attached. Their Cas, hobbled and manacled, lying on a dusty floor. He’s awake and his eyes stare defiantly at the camera. Next to him is what must be the dummy artifact he picked up, from a hardware store by the look of it and it’s not a bad facsimile. When they find out it’s fake though… Sam struggles to think of a good outcome.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I got distracted with DCBB and TFWBB and cockles fics on my tumblr blog. This was supposed to be a one-shot idea that went on a bit longer than planned, but, the next chapter is the last so thanks for sticking with me through my lazy updates.

“He’s a frigging idiot. A complete and absolute frigging idiot. Why would he do that? Why the hell would he do that?” Dean turns on his heel and paces back towards Sam.

“Dean… .“ Sam grabs Dean’s arm trying to stop the pacing and the yelling.

“What?” Dean yells, staring at Sam just daring him to do something, punch him or something, Sam’s not even sure, but he’s going to punch him soon if Dean doesn’t stop. “What, Sam? You think he’s not an idiot? You think he was right to do that? Maybe you don’t even care.” Dean reaches an arm out and shoves Sam none too gently in the chest. 

“That’s not fair Dean, and you know it,” Sam complains, taking a step back out of Dean’s reach. His brother can be a real dick sometimes.

Dean opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, then seems to think better of it, turns and paces away. Sam hunkers down into his jacket, shrugging into the collar to stop the freezing night air from turning his neck into a Popsicle.

Sam turns to look at David who’s sitting on the step outside the motel room they’ve all been banished from while Dean Senior cleans Cas up, treating his injuries before the drugs wear off.

“Sorry,” he says, waving an arm that loosely points towards Dean. 

David shrugs as best he can with his arms wrapped around his body and his chin on his knees. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Yeah?” Sam asks, arching an eyebrow. “Your Dad doesn’t seem the type.”

“My Dad is still him,” David says, nodding in Dean’s direction. He glances over his shoulder at the motel room door as if he can see through it to what’s happening inside. “They spend just as much time bickering with each other as they do - “ David screws his nose up in a look of disgust, then looks at his shoes, “ - you know, love stuff.”

“Your Dad will be okay,” Sam says. “Once he wakes up, he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s still… I don’t like seeing him like that.” David turns back to face Sam, and his eyes focus on a point behind Sam which is enough warning that Sam doesn’t jump when Dean speaks.

Dean shoves Cas’s phone excitedly in Sam’s face. “Look.”

Sam takes the phone and peers at the screen. “Some kind of GPS tracking app?”

“It started beeping and when I worked out what the hell it was, that was on the screen.” Dean points to a flashing reference point on the screen. “That marker is about fifty miles from where we picked up Cas. Do you think?… I mean do you think Cas would know how to set up a tracker?“ 

Sam can see the hope in Dean’s face, and hear it in his voice and he doesn’t want to quash it. It might be misplaced, but even Sam’s hopeful. He can’t help himself. “Cas would have to have something on him to send that signal, but he’s a smart guy so I don’t see why he wouldn’t be able to work something like this out. He could have picked up the tracker when he picked up the fake artifact.”

“So you think it’s him? We have to go. We have to go right now.” Sam hopes it’s Cas, but he doesn’t know for sure so when Dean turns and walks towards the two vehicles Sam doesn’t follow him. They don’t have a plan. They’re back to square one even if they could confirm that the flashing dot on the screen is Cas. Equally, it could be a trap. If the cult found out the artifact is fake, they’d still need the artifact. The cult might assume they still have it on them.

“Sam!” Dean turns and snaps as Sam stands there in indecision.

Sam forgot about David and while Sam’s standing there, the kid gets up and runs to Dean and the truck. “We can do the spell again. I mean I know I’m not Cas’s son but Cas and my Dad are the same person sort of so I’ve still got the same DNA. It’ll work right? I mean me and Dad would have worked if he’d been close enough but he wasn’t so this time it’ll work ‘cause we know where Cas is. I want to help ‘cause Cas is my friend and Dad’s still asleep anyway and fifty miles isn’t very far is it and - “

“David,” Dean interjects when the kid doesn’t look as if he’s going to stop, and when David shuts up, Dean turns to Sam who shrugs thoughtfully.

“No reason it shouldn’t work. If it is Cas.”

“We have to take a punt, Sam. I’m not stupid and I know it’s fifty/fifty that it’s a trap, but what if Cas set that up for us to come and find him and we don’t? What’s he going to think? He already thinks… “ Dean trails off, then swallows visibly. “We can’t not go - not if he might need me… us.”

Sam hears the slip up and he sees the anxiety on Dean’s face, and he knows Dean will go anyway whether Sam goes or not. “Okay,” he says.

###

Dean Senior wouldn’t leave his Cas before he woke up and at first he wouldn’t let David go with them on his own. It was only after Dean took him to one side and spent an intense five minutes in conversation with him that Dean Senior agreed to let David go. Sam has no idea what Dean said to him and although he’s curious he doesn’t think he’s ever going to ask, but whatever it was, not only did they get David, but they got the keys to the impala too, which is why five minutes later the three of them are speeding down an empty road following the tracking signal.

“Dad doesn’t like to take her over a hundred and twenty,” David pipes up from the back disapprovingly.

Dean puts his foot down on the gas pedal and the needle creeps up to a hundred and fifty. 

David pouts and sits back in the seat, Dean smirks smugly, and Sam spends the twenty-five minute journey wondering who’s the bigger child.

Five miles away from the tracking signal, Dean turns off the main road onto a dirt track. The silence in the car is more edgy now, sparking with anticipation and unconcealed anxiety. When they’re a mile away, Dean just stops the car on the road and turns off the engine. 

Straggly trees line the side of the road interspersed with boulders and moss. There’s a layer of frost starting to form on the surface of the moss. This isn’t one of the sites on their list though it’s not far from the last one, maybe forty miles as the crow flies. Or the Native American rides, Sam wonders. It’s more than passably feasible for undocumented sites to exist.

“This spot isn’t as open as the last one. Do we need distractions?” Dean asks. He’s standing by the back of the car and has two squares of plastic explosives, one in each hand.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sam says, and Dean sighs in relief. “Let’s just get on with it. Get the charcoal.” Sam puts a hand on David’s shoulder. “You ready?” David nods.

Sam and David repeat the spell from the time before - sigils, chanting, blood. It’s more familiar this time and they know what to expect at each stage though Dean looks on curiously just outside the edge of the sigil, taking a step back when the charcoal first starts to glow and flare. Sam reaches the final verse of the spell, David drips a final five drops of blood at each of five star points, the charcoal bursts into small flames, then suddenly shoots huge flames into the air which it definitely hadn’t done last time. Sam and David leap back out of the way, David patting his hair to put out a small fire that started in the dark mop. Sam stares into the middle of the sigil trying to see past the flames. The flames die out in the center and gradually die out towards the edge of the sigil until only those at the edge are still burning. 

Sam can see through the flames now and right in the middle is Cas. All Sam can see is he’s lying on the ground, curled into a ball, and while Sam’s trying to work out if Cas is okay, Dean takes a flying leap through the circle of flames and as he crosses them, they go out completely leaving nothing but a charred circle with two figures in the center.

Sam and David join them just in time to see Cas open his eyes and blink rapidly, peering around him. 

“It worked?” Cas croaks.

“It worked,” Sam confirms in relief. “You took a hell of a chance though. What if we hadn’t found your phone for starters?”

“I gave a little boy a dollar to call the number. Of course you will have found it,” Cas says as if there was never any doubt in his mind. Sam needs to give him some lessons in the unreliability of human behavior, but probably not right this minute. Right this minute he’s just damn glad Cas is okay.

Cas sits up, then leans back on one elbow looking woozy. Dean’s arm darts out to steady him. “You okay?” 

“Yes,” Cas says and sits up again, this time with more success. Dean grabs his wrist and hauls him to his feet where he sways a little before settling. “The spell just took it out of me a bit.” He looks at David. “Thank you, David.”

David grins hugely and walks in to wrap his arms around Cas’s middle. “You’re welcome.”

“You better ring your Dad,” Sam says and David nods and walks away pulling out his cell phone. Sam looks at where Dean has his arm around Cas’s waist and smiles.

“I’m just helping him until he gets his sea-legs,” Dean snarks.

The smile drops off Sam’s face and he shakes his head in disappointment. Why he assumed that nearly losing Cas would kick Dean into acknowledging his feelings Sam doesn’t know. 

“Now would be a good time to tell Cas what you should have told him ages ago, Dean,” he says before turning and following David back to the car. His brother’s annoyingly more emotionally repressed than a stick insect.

Which is why Sam’s more than a little shocked when he reaches the car, turns around in an frustrated huff, to see Dean kissing the temple of a surprised-looking Cas.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean hangs on to Cas on the way back to the car despite Cas’s confused protests that he’s fine, and Dean can let go of him any time he likes. The way Cas favors his right side indicates that might not be entirely the truth, but when they get to the car and Dean reaches out to lift Cas’s shirt up to check, Cas backs away looking comically terrified. 

“I’m fine,” he insists hanging onto the bottom hem of his shirt with both hands as if his life depended on it. “I fell on a rock. It’s just a bruise.”

Dean looks hurt, Cas looks bewildered and Sam would chuckle if his brother and his friend’s perpetual inability to communicate with each other was funny, but actually it’s kind of sad.

When Dean walks around the car to get to the driver’s side, Cas stands on tiptoes to whisper to Sam, “What’s the matter with Dean?”

Sam doesn’t really know where to start. “In what way?” he hedges, and Cas gives him a disappointed look.

“He kissed my head, for one,” Cas hisses. “It’s not normal. You must have noticed he’s acting strange.”

Sam swallows, nervously pondering all the things he could say, before chickening out. “Well, he was worried about you, and you know, pissed off at you.” Which is the truth if not the whole truth.

“So, he’s angry with me? So why did he - “

“You know what, man, he’s… um… he should probably tell you himself.”

“I’m not sure I can wait that long,” Cas grumbles as he ducks down into the back of the car and Sam stares at the back of his head in sympathy.

David clambers in ungracefully after Cas, wearing the bandage Sam put on his arm like some kind of badge of honor and asking questions at a rate of knots. “Cas, what happened? What did they do to you? What was the ritual they wanted to do? Would it have worked? Did they find out the artifact wasn’t real? Did the spell hurt? Was it like flying? My Dad’s back, thanks for getting my Dad back.”

Cas screws his nose up at the onslaught. “Is your dad okay?” Cas asks, picking up on the last and easiest thread, and David starts telling him the story of how they found his dad and what they did afterward. Dean starts the engine, executes a perfect three point turn and starts off down the dirt track back the way they came.

Sam shuts out the kid’s babbling and as soon as Dean turns the car off the dirt road and takes the route back towards the motel, Sam calls the police in the nearest town in the opposite direction, letting them know where the cult were hanging out, telling them about human sacrifices and hoping there’s enough evidence around to hold them and prosecute them otherwise Dean Senior and Cas will be looking over their shoulders for a long time. Maybe this sort of thing is something they need to better prepare for when they get back. He grins at the thought - they can go home now. David has his dad back, Sam and Dean have Cas. They can go home, albeit taking their problems with them. On that thought, Sam looks across at Dean. He’s concentrating mostly on the road ahead, but flicking glances in the driver’s mirror every few minutes.

Dean notices him watching after a while but instead of the grumpy retort Sam expects, Dean sighs and mutters, “okay, okay,” under his breath, too quiet for the two in the back to hear.

By the time they get back to the hotel, David still hasn’t exhausted his rhetoric, though he has exhausted his audience. Castiel looks mightily relieved as the impala pulls to a stop. They all climb out, Castiel wincing slightly. David runs across the lot to the motel door but before he reaches it the door opens and an older version of Cas stands there, smiling excitedly. 

“David!”

“Dad!”

David runs up to Cas but stops from wrapping his small body around his dad’s with inches to spare. “Are you okay?” he asks breathless with excitement.

Cas Senior grabs his son’s shoulders and pulls him into a desperate hug, his face showing pain, but presumably not caring. “I’m fine.” He ruffles David’s hair. “Even better now you’re here.” Dean Senior comes up behind and to one side of them, and wraps his arms around both of them, then they just stand there in a huddle until Sam can’t look any longer because it’s too intimate and private, and he turns back to face the car. 

Dean’s staring at Cas, and Cas is staring back anxiously. 

“I want that,” Dean says.

“You… what?” Cas asks, pulling both eyebrows up towards his hairline and looking where Dean’s pointing at their future selves with their son.

“I want that. So if you ever run off and sacrifice yourself like that again I’ll - ”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

Dean inches closer to Cas. Sam should probably look away from this too but he’s running out of options.

“Is that why you kissed me on the head?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. My head doesn’t hurt.”

“I know that. But your chest does. Can I look now?”

“Are you going to kiss me there?”

“Do you want me to?”

“For God’s sake, can you two draw this out any longer?” Sam asks loudly, flinging his arms up in frustration. “Cas, Dean loves you. Dean, Cas loves you too. Now kiss already. I don’t care where, just keep it above the belt, okay?”

They both turn to look at him in surprise. “Are you alright Sam?” Cas asks.

Sam stares at them, turns on his heel and stalks off. For fuck’s sake.

###

Dean Senior finds him in the bar next to the motel, and silently pulls up a stool and order’s a light beer. Sam’s still on his first drink. Alcohol’s never really done it for him as a way to dull his frustrations.

“Thanks,” Dean Senior says, clinking his glass against Sam’s.

“No problem. I’m glad it worked out. And if you’ve managed to jump start my brother and his angel into something I’ll be eternally in your debt, though I don’t know if they’re quite there - “

“Oh they got there,” Dean Senior chuckles. “It was the most awkward kiss I’ve ever seen.” 

“Seriously?” Sam exclaims, not quite believing it.

“Seriously.”

“Damn, I missed it.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to see plenty more,” Dean Senior says with a smile. “I have some things for you before you go, if you’re interested?”

Sam swivels on his stool and takes a swig of his beer, curiosity piqued. “What things?”

“Future stuff. I wasn’t going to tell you, but Cas says it’s okay, so I guess it’s okay.”

“Cas says it’s okay?”

“One word about me being whipped and you’re getting nothing,” Dean warns. He rummages in a pocket. “This,” Dean says, pulling out a piece of paper with neat scripted hand-writing on it, “is a list of things from my Cas to your Cas about what not to do. Your Cas can learn from my Cas’s mistakes, it seems.”

Sam peers down the list and sees common sense things like ‘sleep more’, mixed in with more serious warnings such as Cas’s allergy to strawberries and the symptoms of the burst appendix he’s apparently going to get in about a year’s time. Sam folds it up and puts it in his pocket.

“You should give this to Cas, not me.”

“He’s busy,” Dean Senior says matter-of-factly. “As is Dean,” he clarifies.

“Oh.”

“These,” Dean says, handing over another, thicker bit of paper, “are sigils you can use to help with fallen angels. There’s quite a few still around, even though most went home. There’s some in there too to hide you from all manner of nasties. Nothing against humans though, unfortunately.”

“Are you and Cas going to be okay,” Sam asks, thinking about the cult and wondering if that’s the end of it.

“We’ll be more careful. We got slack. Being content will do that to you.”

“Are you content?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says fondly. “And speaking of which, your wives.”

Sam cringes. “Maybe I shouldn’t know.”

“Maybe, and maybe you’ll miss some happiness but maybe you’ll find it quicker. First up, you married some chick called Amelia that you met when Cas and I were in purgatory. Didn’t last a year. After that,” Dean counts them off on his fingers, which is a little unfair. “Lois, Madeline, and this one coming up is called Tawny. She’s nice, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s gonna stick.” He shrugs. “Who am I to tell though?”

“So what’s your secret?” Sam asks, disillusioned. He had intended to find Amelia. Not now though.

“Fall in love slowly,” Dean Senior says, “though maybe we took it to the extreme.” He smiles, and his smile is different than Dean’s, more relaxed, less sad.

“Anything else?” Sam asks.

“One last thing.” Dean hands over another slip of paper, just a small note this time. It’s got a name and address of a woman on it, not a name he recognizes.

Sam raises an eyebrow.

“David’s surrogate mom,” Dean says and it’s not as if Sam hadn’t wondered but he hadn’t really got into detail. Surrogacy seems too organized for the Dean and Cas he knows. “It took us ages to pick her so thought I’d save them the trouble.”

“This is none of my business, but how come Cas got to be biological dad?” Sam asks.

Dean Senior shrugs. “His little guys swam faster than my little guys,” he says, then leans over conspiratorially, “but if you ask me the pushy angelic little bastards fought dirty and my guys didn’t stand a chance.”

“Seriously?” sam stutters.

Dean grins. “No. Sorry, it’s an in-joke. Simple race to the finish line, I swear. Who knows, maybe next time round they’ll get a green-eyed freckly kid.”

Sam finishes his drink. Talking about Dean and Cas’s sperm all mixed up, having races and fighting battles is making him a little queasy. “Time to go home,” he says.

###

Home is awesome. Home is marvelous. Other than the fact that home is where all the gross PDA and very noisy sex is happening. It’s like Dean is trying to make up for the last five years. Sam rests his elbows on the kitchen table and puts his head in his hands. He can’t believe he wanted them to get together. He picks up the remote control for the music center and turns up the volume.

He stares again at his contact list in his phone, scrolling back and forward to and from Amelia. Eventually he sighs, brings up the contact and hits delete. When the phone asks him if he’s sure, he clicks ‘yes’. He’s sure.


End file.
